Ovid, Metamorphoses

Ovid's Metamorphoseswas a seminal text for the grammar school curriculum that Shakespeare most likely studied in Stratford. This collection of myths records the often violent intervention of the gods into the lives of mortals, a collision of immortal and mortal lives that typically resulted in the metamorphosis or transformation of humans as they fled from their godly pursuers. Arthur Golding published an English translation of all fifteen books in 1567, a popular edition reprinted numerous times in the late sixteenth- and early-seventeenth centuries which proved influential for Shakespeare and his fellow writers. Francis Meres is perhaps the earliest critic of Shakespeare's devotion to Ovid. Writing in 1598, Meres comments that 'the sweet wittie soule of Ovid lives in mellifluous and hony-tongued Shakespeare, witness his Venus and Adonis,his Lucrece, his sugred Sonts among his private friends." As Jonathan Bate observes, "The soul that has been metamorphosed into Shakespeare is that of Ovid, the poet of metamorphosis" (3). Indeed, the various myths presented below are Ovidian instances of metamorphoses that inform Shakespeare's own poetic modulations of myth into dramatic form that allows its readers to experience the human dimension of metamorphosis that is as much psychological and emotional as it is corporeal.

Book 10 contains the tale of Pygmalion, a sculptor who falls in love with the ivory statue he fashions to compensate for his disgust over feminine libertines. The goddess Venus takes pity on Pygmalion and his devotion to his statue and animates it to provide a resolution that fulfills Pygmalion's desire for a perfect love. While Shakespeare clearly draws on Pygmalion's myth as the subtext for this play, Hermione's own restoration is more nuanced: Hermione's "statue" is not the creation of a masculine wish fulfillment but rather a product of Hermione's and Paulina's feminine collusion. Shakespeare uses this myth to demonstrate the enforced artifice of Hermione's privation and later restoration to a Leontes responsible for her isolation and purposeful deprivation.

a. Pygmalion

1And the time shall come ere many years be spent,2That in thy flower a valiant prince shall join himself with thee,3And leave his name upon the leaves for men to read and see. 4While Phoebus thus did prophesy, behold the blood of him5Which dyed the grass, ceased blood to be, and up there sprang a trim6And goodly flower, more orient than the purple cloth ingrain,7In shape a lily, were it not that lillies do remain8Of silver color, whereas these of purple hue are seen.9Although that Phoebus had the cause of this great honor been,10Yet thought he not the same enough. And therefore did he write11His sighs upon the leaves thereof: and so in color bright12The flower hath a writ thereon, which letters are of grief.13So small the Spartans thought the birth of Hyacinth reproof14Unto them, that they worship him from that day unto this.15And as their fathers did before, so they do never miss16With solemn pomp to celebrate his feast from year to year.17But if perchance that Amathus the rich in metals, were18Demanded if it would have bred the prophets it would swear,19Yea even as gladly as the folk whose brews sometime did bear20A pair of welked horns: whereof they Cerastes named are.21Before their door an Altar stood of Jove that takes the care22Of alyents and of travelers, which loathsome was to see,23For lewdness wrought thereon. If one that had a stranger be 24Had looked thereon, he would have thought there had on it been killed25Some sucking calves or lambs. The blood of strangers there was spilled.26Dame Venus sore offended at this wicked sacrifice,27To leave her cities and the land of Cyprus did devise28But then bethinking her, she said: What hath my pleasant ground,29What have my cities trespassed? what fault in them is found?30Nay rather let this wicked race by exile punished been,31Or death, or by some other thing that is a mean between32Both death and exile. What is that? save only for to change33Their shape. In musing with herself what figure were most strange, 34She cast her eye upon a horn. And there withal she thought35The same to be a shape right meet upon them to be brought:36And so she from their mighty limbs their native figure took,37And turned them into boisterous bulls with grim and cruel look.38Yet durst the filthy prophets stand in stiff opinion that39Dame Venus was no goddess till she being wroth thereat,40To make their bodies common first compelled them everychone41And after changed their former kind. For when that shame was gone,42And that they waxed brazen fast, she turned them to stone,43In which between their former shape was difference small or none. [X.260]44Whom for because Pygmalion saw to lead their life in sin45Offended with the vice whereof great store is packed within46The nature of the womankind, he led a single life.47And long it was ere he could find in heart to take a wife.48Now in the while by wondrous art an image he did grave49Of such proportion, shape, and grace as nature never gave50Nor can to any woman give. In this his work he took51A certain love. The look of it was right a maiden's look,52And such a one as that ye would believe had life, and that53Would moved be, if womanhood and reverence letted not. [X.270]54So artificial was the work. He wondreth at his art55And of his counterfeited coarse conceiveth love in heart.56He often touched it, feeling if the work that he had made57Were very flesh or ivory still. Yet could he not persuade58Himself to think it ivory, for he oftentimes it kissed59And thought it kissed him again. He held it by the fist,60And talked to it. He believed his fingers made a dint61Upon her flesh, and feared lest some black or bruised print62Should come by touching over hard. Sometime with pleasant bourds63And wanton toys he dallyingly doth cast forth amorous words. [X.280]64Sometime (the gifts wherein young maids are wonted to delight)65He brought her ouches, fine round stones, and lillies fair and white,66And pretty singing birds, and flower of thousand sorts and hue,67In gorgeous garments furthermore he did her also deck,68And painted balls, and amber from the tree distilled new.69And on her fingers put me rings, and chains about her neck.70Rich pearls were hanging at her ears, and tablets at her breast.71All kind of things became her well. And when she was undressed,72She seemed not less beautiful. He laid her in a bed73The which with scarlet dyed in tyre was richly overspread, [X.290]74And terming her his bedfellow, he couched down her head75Upon a pillow soft, as though she could have felt the same.76The feast of Venus hallowed through the isle of Cyprus, came77And bullocks white with gilden horns were slain for sacrifice,78And up to heaven of frankincense the smoky fume did rise.79When as Pygmalion having done his duty that same day,80Before the altar standing, thus with fearful heart did say:81"If that you goddess can all things give, then let my wife (I pray)82(He durst not say be yon same wench of ivory, but) be like83My wench of ivory. Venus (who was nought at all to seek ... [X.300]84What such a wish as that did mean) then present at her feast,85For handsel of her friendly help did cause three times, at least86The fire to kindle and to spire thrice upward in the air.87As soon as he came home, straightway Pygmalion did repair88Unto the image of his wench, and leaning on the bed,89Did kiss her. In her body straight a warmness seemed to spread.90He put his mouth again to hers, and on her breast did lay91His hand. The ivory waxed soft: and putting quite away92All hardness, yielded underneath his fingers, as wee see93A piece of wax made soft against the sun, or drawn to be ... [X.310]94In divers shapes by chafing it between one's hands, and so95To serve to uses. He amazed stood wavering to and fro96Tween joy, and fear to be beguiled, again he burnt in love,97Agene with feeling he began his wished hope to prove.98He felt it very flesh in deed. By laying on his thumb,99He felt her pulses beating. Then he stood no longer dumb100But thanked Venus with his hart, and at the length he laid101His mouth to hers who was as then become a perfect maid.102She felt the kiss, and blushed thereat: and lifting fearfully103Her eyelids up, her lover and the light at once did spy. [X.320]104The marriage that herself had made the goddess blessed so,105That when the moon with fulsome light nine times her course had go,106This lady was delivered of a son that Paphos hight,107Of whom the island takes that name.

b. Ceres and Proserpina

The myth of a mother and daughter forcefully separated and reunited forms a major analogue for Shakespeare's account of Hermione and Perdita's sixteen-year separation. In Ovid, Proserpina's abduction by the god of the underworld, Dis, compels Ceres to search above and below the waters to find her daughter. She is assisted in her search by a number of nymphs who themselves are metamorphosed figures, the fountains Cyan and Arethusa. Though the god Jove exercises his power to restore Ceres and Proserpina, the reunion is limited to a six-month period, spring-time, when Ceres's fertility holds sway over the earth; Dis claims her for the remainder of the year, winter, when Ceres is dormant and estranged from her daughter.

108While in this garden Proserpine was taking her pastime,109In gathering either violets blue, or lillies white as lime,110And while of maidenly desire she filled her maundy and lap,111Endeavoring to outgather her companions there, by hap112Dis spied her: loved her: caught her up: and all at once well near,113So hasty, hot, and swift a thing is love as may appear.114The lady with a wailing voice affright did often call115Her mother and her waiting maids, but mother most of all.116And as she from the upper part her garment would have rent,117By chance she let her lap slip down, and out her flowers went. ... [V.500]118And such a silly simpleness her childish age yet bear,119That even the very loss of them did move her more to tears.120The catcher drives his chariot forth, and calling every horse121By name, to make away apace he doth them still enforce:122And shakes about their necks and manes their rusty bridle reins123And through the deepest of the lake perforce he them constrains.124And through the Palic pools, the which from broken ground do boil125And smell of brimstone very rank: and also by the soil126Where as the Bacchies, folk of Corinth with the double seas,127Between unequal havens twain did rear a town for ease. ... [V.510]128Between the fountains of Cyan and Arethuse of Pise129An arm of sea that meets enclosed with narrow horns there lies.130Of this the pool called Cyan which beareth greatest fame131Among the nymphs of Sicily did algates take the name.132Who vauncing her unto the waste amid her pool did know133Dame Proserpine, and said to Dis: Ye shall no further go:134You cannot Ceres' son-in-law be, will she so or no.135You should have sought her courteously and not enforst her so.136And if I may with great estates my simple things compare,137Anapus was in love with me: but yet he did not fare ... [V.520]138As you do now with Proserpine. He was content to woo139And I unforst and unconstrained consented him unto.140This said, she spreaded forth her arms and stopt him of his way.141His hastier wrath Saturnus's son no longer then could stay.142But cheering up his dreadful steeds did smite his royal mace143With violence in the bottom of the pool in that same place.144The ground straight yielded to his stroke and made him way to Hell,145And down the open gap both horse and chariot headlong fell.146Dame Cyan taking sore to heart as well the ravishment147Of Proserpine against her will, as also the contempt ... [V.530]148Against her fountain's privilege, did shroud in secret hart149An inward corsie comfortless, which never did depart150Until she melting into tears consumed away with smart.151The selfsame waters of the which she was but late ago152The mighty goddess, now she pines and wastes herself into.153Ye might have seen her limbs wax lithe, ye might have bent her bones.154Her nails waxed soft: and first of all did melt the smallest ones:155As hair and fingers, legs and feet: for these same slender parts156Do quickly into water turn, and afterward converts157To water, shoulder, back, breast, side: and finally in stead ... [V.540]158Of lively blood, within her veins corrupted there was spread159Thin water: so that nothing now remained whereupon160Ye might take hold, to water all consumed was anon.161The careful mother in the while did seek her daughter dear162Through all the world both sea and land, and yet was near the near.163The morning with her dewy hair her slugging never found,164Nor yet the evening star that brings the night upon the ground.165Two seasoned pine trees at the mount of Aetna did she light166And bare them restless in her hands through all the dankest night.167Again as soon as cheerful day did dim the stars, she sought ... [V.550]168Her daughter still from east to west. And being overwrought169She caught a thirst: no liquor yet had come within her throat.170By chance she spied near at hand a thatched cote171With peevish doors: she knockt thereat, and out there comes a trot.172The goddess asked her some drink and she denied it not:173But out she brought her by and by a draught of merry go down174And therewithal a hotchpotch made of steeped barley brown175And flax and coriander seed and other simples more176The which she in an earthen pot together sod before.177While Ceres was a eating this, before her gazing stood ... [V.560]178A hard fast boy, a shrewd pert wag, that could no manners good:179He laughed at her and in scorn did call her greedy gut.180The goddess being wroth therewith did on the hotchpotch put181The liquor ere that all was eat, and in his face it threw.182Immediately the skin thereof became of speckled hew,183And into legs his arms did turn: and in his altered hide184A wriggling tail straight to his limbs was added more beside.185And to th' intent he should not have much power to worken scathe,186His body in a little room together knit she hath.187For as with pretty lizard he in fashion doth agree: [V.570]188So than the lizard somewhat less in every point is he.189The poor old woman was amazed: and bitterly she wept:190She durst not touch the uncouth worm, which into corners crept.191And of the flecked spots like stars that on his hide are set192A name agreeing thereunto in Latin doth he get.193It is our swift whose skin with gray and yellow specks is fret.194What lands and seas the goddess sought it were too long to sayen.195The world did want. And so she went to Sicill back again.196And is in going every where she searched busily,197She also came to Cyane: who would assuredly [V.580]198Have told her all things, had she not transformed been before.199But mouth and tongue for utterance now would serve her turn no more.200Howbeit a token manifest she gave her for to know201What was become of Proserpine. Her girdle she did show202Still hovering on her holy pool, which slightly from her fell203As she that way did pass: and that her mother knew too well.204For when she saw it, by and by as though she had but then205Been new advertised of her chance, she piteously began206To rend her ruffled hair, and beat her hands against her breast.207As yet she knew not where she was. But yet with rage opprest, [V.590]208She curst all lands, and said they were unthankful everych one,209Yea and unworthy of the fruits bestowed them upon.210But bitterly above the rest she banned Sicilie,211In which the mention of her loss she plainly did espy.212And therefore there with cruel hand the earing ploughs she brake,213And man and beast that tilde the ground to death in anger strake.214She marred the seed, and eke forbade the fields to yield their fruit.215The plenteousness of that same Ile of which there went such bruit216Through all the world, lay dead: the corn was killed in the blade:217Now too much drought, now too much wet did make it for to fade. [V.600]218The stars and blasting winds did hurt, the hungry fowls did eat219The corn to ground: the tines and briars did overgrow the wheat.220And other wicked weeds the corn continually annoy,221Which neither tilth nor toil of man was able to destroy.222Then Arethuse, flood Alphey's love, lifts from her Elean waves223Her head, and shedding to her ears her dewy hair that waves224About her forehead said: O thou that art the mother dear225Both of the maiden sought through all the world both far and near,226And eke of all the earthly fruits, forbear thine endless toil,227And be not wroth without a cause with this thy faithful soil: [V.610]228The land deserves no punishment. Unwillingly, God wot,229She opened to the ravisher that violently her smote.230It is not sure my native soil for which I thus entreat.231I am but here a sojourner, my native soil and seat232In Pisa and from Ely town I fetch my first descent.233I dwell but as a stranger here: but sure to my intent234This country likes me better far than any other land.235Here now I Arethusa dwell: here am I settled: and236I humbly you beseech extend your favor to the same.237A time will one day come when you to mirth may better frame, ... [V.620]238And have your heart more free from care, which better serve me may239To tell you why I from my place so great a space do stray,240And unto Ortygy am brought through so great seas and waves.241The ground doth give me passage free, and by the lowest caves242Of all the earth I make my way, and here I raise my head,243And look upon the stars again neared out of knowledge fled.244Now while I underneath the earth the lake of Styx did pass,245I saw your daughter Proserpine with these same eyes. She was246Not merry, neither rid of fear as seemed by her cheer.247But yet a queen, but yet of great god Dis the stately fere; [V.630]248But yet of that same droopy realm the chief and sovereign peer.249Her mother stood as stark as stone, when she these news did hear,250And long she was like one that in another world had been.251But when her great amazedness by greatness of her teen252Was put aside, she gets her to her chariot by and by253And up to heaven in all post haste immediately doth sty.254And there beslubbered all her face: her hair about her ears,255To royal Jove in way of plaint this spiteful tale she bear:256As well for thy blood as for mine a suitor unto thee257I hither come. If no regard may of the mother be ... [V.640]258Yet let the childe her father move, and have not lesser care259Of her (I pray) because that I her in my body bare.260Behold our daughter whom I sought so long is found at last:261If finding you it term, when of recovery means is past.262Or if you finding do it call to have a knowledge where263She is become. Her ravishment we might consent to bear,264So restitution might be made. And though there were to me265No interest in her at all, yet forasmuch as she266Is yours, it is unmeet she be bestowed upon a thief.267Jove answered thus: My daughter is a jewel dear and life, [V.650]268A collop of mine own flesh cut as well as out of thine.269But if we in our hearts can find things rightly to define,270This is not spite but love. And yet madam in faith I see271No cause of such a son in law ashamed for to be,272So you contented were therewith. For put the case that he273Were destitute of all things else, how great a matter ist274Jove's brother for to be? but sure in him is nothing mist.275Nor he inferior is to me save only that by lot276The Heavens to me, the Hells to him the destinies did allot.277But if you have so sore desire your daughter to divorce, [V.660]278Though she again to Heaven repair I do not greatly force.279But yet conditionly that she have tasted there no food:280For so the destinies have decreed. He ceased: and Ceres stood281Full bent to fetch her daughter out: but destinies her withstood,282Because the maid had broke her fast. For as she happed one day283In Pluto's orchard recklessly from place to place to stray,284She gathering from a bowing tree a ripe powngarnet, took285Seven kernels out and sucked them. None chanced hereon to look,286Save only one Ascalaphus whom Orphne, erst a dame287Among the other elves of Hell not of the basest fame, ... [V.670]288Bare to her husband Acheron within her dusky den.289He sawed it, and by blabbing it ungraciously as then,290Did let her from returning thence. A grievous sigh the queen291Of Hell did fetch, and of that wight that had a witness been292Against her made a cursed bird. Upon his head she shed293The water of the Phlegeton: and by and by his head294Was nothing else but beak and down, and mighty glaring eyes.295Quite altered from himself between two yellow wings he flies.296He groweth chiefly into head and hooked talons long297And much ado he hath to flask his lazy wings among. [V.680]298The messenger of morning was he made, a filthy fowl,299A sign of mischief unto men, the sluggish screeching owl.300This person for his lavish tongue and telling tales might seem301To have deserved punishment. But what should men esteem302To be the very cause why you, Acheloy's daughters, wear303Both feet and feathers like to birds, considering that you bear304The upper parts of maidens still? And comes it so to pass305Because when Lady Proserpine a gathering flowers was,306Ye mermaids kept her company? Whom after you had sought307Through all the earth in vain, anon of purpose that your thought [V.690]308Might also to the seas be known, ye wished that ye might309Upon the waves with hovering wings at pleasure rule your flight.310And had the gods to your request so pliant, that ye found311With yellow feathers out of hand your bodies clothed round:312Yet lest that pleasant tune of yours ordained to delight313The hearing, and so high a gift of music perish might314For want of utterance, human voice to utter things at will315And countenance of virginity remained to you still.316But mean between his brother and his heavy sister go'th317God Jove, and parteth equally the years between them both. [V.700]318And now the goddess Proserpine indifferently doth reign319Above and underneath the earth, and so doth she remain320One half year with her mother and the residue with her fere.321Immediately she altered is as well in outward cheer322As inward mined. For where her look might late before appear323Sad even to Dis, her countenance now is full of mirth and grace324Even like as Phoebus having put the watery clouds to chase,325Doth show himself a conqueror with bright and shining face.326Then fruitful Ceres void of care in that she did recover327Her daughter, prayed thee, Arethuse, the story to discover. ... [V.710]328What caused thee to fleet so far and wherefore thou became329A sacred spring? The waters whist.

c. Callisto

Callisto was a nymph of chastity—a devotee of the huntress Diana-- who, after being forcibly taken by Jove and impregnated by the god in his disguise as Diana, is further victimized by both Diana and Juno, the former by banishing Callisto when the pregnancy is discovered and the latter in transforming Callisto into a bear in the heat of her wrath caused by her husband's infidelity. Callisto's son, Arcas, later confronts his mother while he is hunting, and despite Callisto's desire to embrace her son, Arcas fearfully seeks to slay this approaching beast of the forest. Jove, in the throes of pity, transforms Callisto into the Ursa Major constellation and her son into the Ursa Minor constellation in order that mother and son may be reunited. Within this myth, Shakespeare may have found a number of analogues for THE WINTER'S TALE: mother and child reunited after a prolonged separation; the bear as a victimized object of a hunt more deserving of pity than vengeance.

330There is no cause of further stay. To spite her heart withal, [II.580]331Her husbands leman bare a boy that Arcas men did call.332On whom she casting louring look with fell and cruel mind333Said: was there, arrant strumpet thou, none other shift to find334But that thou needs must be with bairn? that all the world must see335My husband's open shame and thine in doing wrong to me?336But neither unto heaven nor hell this trespass salt thou bear.337I will bereave the of thy shape through pride whereof thou were338So hardy to entice my fere. Immediately with that339She raught her by the foretop fast and fiercely threw her flat340Against the ground. The wretched wench her arms up meekly cast, [II.590]341Her arms began with grisly hair to wax all rugged fast.342Her hands gan warp and into paws ill-favoredly to grow,343And for to serve instead of feet. The lips that late ago344Did like the mighty Jove so well, with side and flaring flaps345Became a wide deformed mouth. And further lest perhaps346Her prayers and her humble words might cause her to relent:347She did bereave her of her speech. Instead whereof there went348An ireful, hoarse, and dreadful voice out from a threatening throat:349But yet the selfsame mind that was before she turned her cote,350Was in her still in shape of bear. The grief whereof she shows [II.600]351By thrusting forth continual sighs, and up she ghastly throws352Such kind of hands as then remained unto the starry sky.353And for because she could not speak she thought Jove inwardly354To be unthankful. Oh how oft she daring not abide355Alone among the desert woods, full many a time and tide356Would stalk before her house in grounds that were her own erewhile?357How oft oh did she in the hills the barking hounds beguile358And in the lands where she herself had chased erst her game,359Now fly herself to save her life when hunters sought the same?360Full oft at sight of other beasts she hid her head for fear, [II.610]361Forgetting what she was herself. For though she were a bear,362Yet when she spied other bear she quooked for very pain:363And feared wolves although her sire among them did remain.